


suburban sundries

by toromeo (ald0us)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: M/M, aka "jace suffers", nothing about this is serious, the PTA mom AU no one asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 18:58:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12065049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ald0us/pseuds/toromeo
Summary: Sebastian is a soccer mom and would like to speak to your manager RIGHT NOW.





	suburban sundries

Jace returned from the water cooler to find Sebastian towering over the poor referee, scowling fiercely and shouting something Jace couldn’t quite make out. Ash stood between them, a smudge of blood on his cheek that Jace was unfortunately quite certain wasn’t his, and the soccer ball in his arms. He was very precocious for an eight-year-old, and had a tendency to bloody other children during soccer games, which Sebastian found endearing and precious. All Jace could say is that none of his genes went into making either of them.

“Honey,” Jace said, putting his hand rather firmly on Sebastian’s arm and cutting him off mid-threat to call the referee’s manager and ruin their career, “why don’t we go sit down?”

“I am absolutely _not_ sitting down. This cretin—“ Sebastian jerked a finger the referee’s way, “—is trying to disqualify _our_ son. Over what? A little scuffle over the ball. I won’t stand for it.”

“He broke the other boy’s nose,” said the referee, a bit weakly. Facing the full force of Sebastian’s wrath had clearly watered down their courage. A bead of sweat trickled down their neck—they were being paid minimum wage at best. Jace was pretty sure being forced to face down Sebastian’s wrath for no more than a few dollars an hour was against the Geneva conventions.

“It’s just fifteen minutes of time-out,” Jace said, taking Sebastian’s arm even more firmly, with both hands this time. “C’mon, Ash. Let’s have a little chat.”

“It was an accident,” said Ash, with absolutely no hint of remorse whatsoever. Jace looked across the field to see Clary and Simon cooing over their son, an awkward little guy named Daniel who liked to stand in the middle of the field picking his nose and looking up at the clouds. Now, he had blood pouring out of his nose, and an ice pack over his face.

Great.

“Okay,” said Jace, guiding both husband and child towards their foldable camping chairs. “Accident or no, you’ve got to start being more careful. You could hurt someone.”

Sebastian settled down in his chair with a huff, lifting Ash to his lap and folding his arms protectively over their chests, as if in protest. “I think Ash did very well. Don’t let the idiot referee upset you, sweetheart. Would you like a snack?”

Jace held back a sigh with effort, pinching the bridge of his nose as if against a headache. Ash looked very pleased with himself, and was soon showered in Ritz crackers, frozen grapes, apple slices marinated in lemon juice, and even a few cookies (organic—though Sebastian was possibly the worst eater Jace had ever met, he had been on a Whole Foods craze recently). Sebastian beamed, as proud as any father could be, and Ash only barely made a face when he was re-lathered in the highest SPF sunscreen money could buy. Even with it, he and Sebastian were both looking rather pink.

As soon as the fifteen minutes were up, Ash jumped off his father’s lap, leaving grass stains on Sebastian’s khaki’s and probably off to break someone’s arm or put them in a coma. By the end of the game, he’d scored twelve goals, kicked three kids rather viciously in the shins, tackled two more, and thrown Madzie’s water bottle at someone’s head.

“Let’s go for ice cream,” Sebastian said brightly, once he’d lifted his small offspring in his arms and kissed his cheek. Ash’s arms smeared mud on the immaculate collar of Sebastian’s polo, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“No ice cream,” said Jace, zipping up the portable cooler and praying that Clary would make Simon come over to extract an apology rather than do it herself. “Ash, we talked about accidents. You have to try harder not to hurt people. It’s against the rules, and it’s mean.”

Ash stared at him as if he’d suggested penguins were marsupials. His little arms were still latched around Sebastian’s neck. “Okay.”

“I mean it,” said Jace, already sensing the futility of his actions as he watched Sebastian one-handedly google the location of the nearest McDonalds. “Promise you’ll try harder.”

“I promise,” said Ash, sounding mildly bored. “Can we get ice cream now?”

Twin pairs of commanding black eyes glared his way. Jace sighed. “Yeah, alright. You two go get the car, and I’ll pack up the rest of our stuff. Sebastian, Ash is not allowed to drive, he’s eight. Ash, don’t let your father let you drive, he’s irresponsible and places no value on human life.”

Jace ushered Sebastian away before he could reply, seeing Clary storming their way across the soccer field with Simon and Daniel trailing awkwardly in her wake. The last time Jace had let Sebastian interact with his sister, it ended with her attempting to stab him in the neck with a bread knife.

“Jace,” Clary bit out, her expression almost as flamingly red as her sunburn. “We need to talk. Now.”

“What Clary means to say,” Simon input with a hasty smile, “is that we’d, uh, like to talk to you, if you could spare a minute of your time.”

“That terror you call a child punched our child in the nose,” Clary snapped, jabbing a finger at Sebastian and Ash’s departing backs. “I demand he apologize. I demand _you_ apologize!”

“Actually she means, Ash can be a bit aggressive sometimes and, uh, Daniel’s a bit hurt, so if we could maybe get them to reconcile somehow—“

“That is not what I mean, Simon, I mean Ash is a sociopath and should be in therapy or an institution somewhere!”

Simon gave a pained smile. “Obviously we don’t mean to suggest your kid is a serious danger to others—“

“He put a semi-poisonous spider in Daniel’s soup at Christmas, Simon!” Clary shouted. “Stop making excuses for my family—you’re not even supposed to like your in-laws—“

Jace considered grabbing his bags and making a break for it while Clary was distracted, but figured it would just cause more problems next family dinner. “Is this a spousal argument or do you actually need me to contribute? Because my days as a marriage counselor are over.”

“I want you to apologize,” Clary said, crossing her arms over her chest. “And I want Ash to apologize too.”

Jace knelt down to Daniel’s level. He had Simon’s dark hair and Clary’s hazel eyes. Daniel removed his finger from his nose, almost thoughtfully, and regarded Jace warily.

“I’m sorry you got hurt, buddy,” he said, putting on his best fatherly smile. He had a feeling it wasn’t a very good one. “You doing okay now?”

“It’s okay,” mumbled Daniel, with a mournful, slightly despondent look that suggested that Ash and his entire sports experience would haunt his therapy bills for years to come. “Mommy says it’s not really broken.”

“It’s not okay!” Clary snapped, and Jace caught a flash of white hair out of the corner of his eye before Sebastian and Ash arrived behind him, possibly with the express intention of sending things directly to hell. “There you are. Ash, I want you to apologize for hurting Daniel.”

Ash looked up at Clary expressionlessly for a few moments, then abruptly tears welled in his dark eyes. “I’m sorry, Daniel,” he said, and pulled his younger cousin into a hug. “I hope you’re okay.” He sniffled, as if for effect, then pulled away. “Do you want to set fire to spiders together?”

If anything, Daniel looked more distressed than before. “I don’t like fire,” he said in a shaky voice. “Or spiders.”

Ash muttered something that sounded like “boring” and set to tearing apart a wildflower.

“Why don’t you join us for ice cream?” Sebastian suggested with a narrow-eyed smile that suggested disaster. He had an arm about Ash’s shoulders, as if to reward him for the worst apology in history. “There’s a McDonalds just around the corner.”

“Absolutely not,” said Clary, scowling.

“That sounds great,” said Simon with a sunny smile.

“I like ice cream,” said Daniel, and that decided it.  
  


 

Clary sat stone-faced in the McDonalds booth the entire time, refusing to touch her fries. Simon chattered on about the new _Star Wars,_ blissfully unaware Jace had only seen the first three and Sebastian had seen none of them. Ash was talking to Daniel between mouthfuls of ice cream, and Daniel looked dangerously on the edge of tears.

“And that cute, little baby cow doesn’t have it’s mother anymore,” Ash was saying, looking rather pointedly at the hamburger sitting in its wrapper in front of Daniel. “All because someone wanted to eat it for lunch. Isn’t that terrible? That poor little baby cow. How would you feel if someone ate your mommy and daddy for lunch?”

“ _Ash,_ ” said Jace, before Daniel could burst into tears and bring out Clary’s wrath again, “why don’t you come sit over here with us?”

Ash made a face but obediently went to come sit on Jace’s knee, and wriggled around as Jace tried to wipe off the ice cream smeared around his mouth. Sebastian was eating his with surprising delicacy, with the air of someone who usually worse clothes so expensive he couldn’t possibly bear to spill food on them. Daniel wormed his way into his mother’s lap where he clung to her neck like a sloth, probably worried someone was going to cannibalize his parents.

The awkwardness was palatable.

“So how _is_ Jocelyn?” Sebastian asked in a conversational tone, as if he hadn’t stated multiple times to her face he couldn’t care less if she lived or died. Jace had been there. It had been pretty dramatic. This was not the bread knife incident, mostly because Clary hadn’t been in the room at the time.

“She’s fine,” said Clary shortly. “How’s Val?”

This, as if she hadn’t sent Jace’s father-in-law increasingly hostile ‘World’s Worst Dad’ mugs, t-shirts, and cooking appliances for the past ten years. Valentine had in turn re-gifted them to Jace, who thought this was quite unfair. He hadn’t murdered Sebastian _or_ Ash yet. That probably deserved a Nobel Prize or something.

“He’s doing great,” Sebastian said, with a very aggressively cheerful smile. “He’s just sold off part of the company, so we think he’ll retire soon. Well, you know him. He says he will, but he’s a workaholic.”

“Hey, that’s great,” Simon said, either completely oblivious to the tension in the air or determined to ignore it. “Good for him.”

Jocelyn and Valentine had a very nasty, highly contentious divorce, and each had picked their favorite child as a souvenir. They’d fought more over a particularly ugly wine glass from their college days than their children. Jace never got the impression either of them had been particularly good at parenting. Why anyone had thought a corporate lawyer-turned-investment banker and a borderline hippie art school principal would ever get along, let alone should be married, was entirely beyond him.

“How’s the art career going?” Sebastian asked, in the smug tones of one who knew the answer very well before asking.

“Very well,” said Clary, turning a bit pink. “How’s making a living destroying the environment and terrorizing indigenous peoples and their livelihoods?”

Sebastian was a senior partner at a firm that managed oil refineries, and sometimes Jace wondered if he’d chosen that particular career just to piss his mother and sister off. Either way, it had worked, and he wore very expensive and well-tailored suits as matter of habit, and Jace couldn’t really argue with that.

“Excellently,” Sebastian said, with a very self-satisfied smile.

“I’m working on a new game, actually,” Simon input quickly. He was an indie game developer and worked on his band in his spare time, each of his projects sounded successively stranger. “It’s about dinosaurs. You get to be a dinosaur and like, conquer the natural world and stop the asteroid from hitting earth using necromancy.”

“Can you eat people?” Ash asked.

“Of course you can,” Simon said, as if he’d asked if dinosaurs could walk. “And you can manipulate fire and magic at higher levels, so you can make other animals and people do your bidding.”

Ash looked at Simon as if seeing him anew. “That sounds cool.”

Simon brightened. “Thanks.”

“So how about you, Jace?” Clary asked, glaring his way. She was clearly still pissed off at him about Ash.

Sebastian put an arm around Jace’s shoulder. There was something perversely pleasing about him showing off Jace like he was an extremely personable Rolls Royce. “Tell them, darling.”

“I just had my first novel signed with a publisher,” Jace said, and the words sounded foreign in his own mouth. “It should be out in a few months.”

“That’s fantastic,” Simon said, looking genuinely pleased. Even Clary looked mildly impressed. “Congratulations, man. What’s it about?”

“Um,” said Jace. There was no real way of saying ‘about my father’s severe depression that ended with him taking his own life’ in polite company. He took the surface approach. “It’s a character study. Of a hockey player and his life.”

“That sounds interesting,” Simon said, rather politely. His phone vibrated, and when he saw the time he yelped. “Oh man, it’s way past Daniel’s naptime. Clary, babe, don’t you think we should—“

“Yes,” said Clary, already grabbing her bag. In Jace’s lap, Ash’s lips curled upwards at the word _naptime._ Even at four years old, Ash had refused naps so violently they both eventually gave up and let him toddle around the house as he wished. “It was wonderful to see you both.”

“Likewise,” Jace said, hoping he didn’t sound too disingenuous.

 

 

After that they went home. After forcing Ash into the shower, Sebastian shuttled him to Tae Kwon Do, which was an activity that Jace knew he would soon live to regret, probably when Ash beat him up over forgetting peanut butter with his apple slices. He had three texts from Alec asking if he wanted to meet for lunch tomorrow, which he agreed to, and two emails from his publisher and agent respectively, which he decided he would read later.

Alec had never really understood Jace’s relationship with Sebastian, and Jace had a feeling he disapproved of it. At any rate he was certain he spent a lot of time gossiping about them with Magnus. Jace defended it saying Sebastian was a good chef and even better in bed, both of which were true. He made a lasagna that brought tears to Jace’s eyes, and—well, suffice to say their honeymoon flame hadn’t subsided. But that wasn’t all of it. As much as he and Sebastian were different, there was a sameness to them that Jace couldn’t place.

It was a slightly disturbing thought. Maybe he was secretly as crazy as the man he’d married. The thought was as terrifying as Sebastian on Black Fridays.

Putting the thought out of his mind, Jace went to the fridge and pulled it open. Sebastian had insisted on stainless steel, and had dragged him through Sears until Jace had the impulse to sneak away while he was comparing the minutiae of the devices’ power ratings and leave him there. It was full of over-priced produce, as if Jace didn’t routinely catch Sebastian eating ice cream for breakfast.

A portion of tuna casserole awaited him with a note in Sharpie on a pink sticky note that said _Remember not to use the microwave! :-)._ Jace ripped it off and shoved the Tupperware into the microwave, slamming the door shut and zapping it for three minutes. One very unnerving thing about Sebastian was that he religiously put noses in his emoticons, and could not be convinced to do otherwise no matter how hard Jace tried.

The microwave dinged and Jace pulled out the casserole, hissing as steam seared his fingers. He shut it hastily and carried the casserole to the kitchen island before Sebastian could return home and catch him using it. He’d recently given up on the GMO vendetta, though not before sending Jace’s friend Maia (a biologist) into a fit of apoplectic rage.

“Your mother should have genetically modified you at birth!” she’d shouted, brandishing the pepper shaker angrily his way, and Jace had remarked internally that Jocelyn would have agreed. “Genetically modified foods are the future of our food supply! Fuck you and your Frankenfood bullshit!”

He’d only gotten a few bites in when Sebastian returned, Ash in tow. Ash looked rather tired and dour, which suggested he hadn’t managed to break any limbs that evening.

“We’re out of Aloe Vera,” Sebastian announced. “And Ash has a tournament on Friday, and there’s a PTA meeting on Thursday evening, soccer practice on Saturday morning and Val asked if we could join him for lunch Saturday and I have four meetings on Wednesday alone—“

Ash read the signs and made for his room. He, like Jace, had realized that when his father was this stressed out the only way to keep him from a temper tantrum of epic proportions was junk food, a massage, or shameless sexual favors from his spouse, and of these things only junk food was of interest to an eight-year-old.

“I can take Ash to the tournament,” Jace said, putting down the casserole to help Sebastian with his coat and put his arms around Sebastian’s waist. “And the PTA meeting if you want.”

The Aloe Vera he couldn’t help with. The back of Sebastian’s neck was lobster red, and would start peeling soon if he didn’t put something on it. (Jace, for his part, hadn’t burned once in his life). He weighed the pros and cons of going to the store to get Aloe and leaving Sebastian alone to stew, and decided Sebastian’s stress level was of higher priority.

Sebastian gave a dramatic sigh that quickly turned to another kind of sigh as Jace unbuckled his belt and pulled up his shirt over his hip bones. “I won’t miss another tournament,” he said, sounding determined. He was very devoted to watching Ash kick, hit, and otherwise slam other children into the floor. “And Sarah Lee and Karen will be happy if I send you, and I can’t have that.”

Sebastian had an ongoing rivalry with almost every other PTA mom on the board, and they’d once gotten together to throw him out of the council before realizing his questionably ethical fundraising tactics had doubled their spending budget—and that his peanut butter brownies _were_ better than Margery’s—and invited him back. He’d waited a full three weeks before replying to the email, and the response had read like a general accepting the enemy’s unconditional surrender. Needless to say, Jace was not a tough enough ambassador.

“Then what _can_ I do?” Jace pressed lazy kisses to Sebastian’s neck, fully aware of the answer.

 

 

Twenty minutes later, Sebastian was curled up happily in Jace’s arms, letting Jace spoon-feed him ice cream (Moose Crossing, his favorite) and play with his hair. He’d ditched his pants somewhere in the hall and had laid his head on Jace’s chest, as if listening to his heartbeat. Some extremely violent movie was playing off Netflix, and Sebastian smiled occasionally like he was re-watching _Titanic._

(Sebastian also loved _Titanic_ and got very upset when Leonardo DiCaprio died, though he hadn’t understood why Jace had been morose for an entire week after watching _Marley and Me._ There was a reason they didn’t have a dog).

“We should go on another honeymoon,” said Sebastian as he watched a character fall into the wood shredder on screen. “Maybe a cruise.”

“You hate cruises,” Jace said, tucking a stray bit of his hair behind his ear. “Because you hate people. Imagine being stuck on a boat with hundreds of them. Like Home Depot, but on water. You’d go crazy.”

Not to mention the hundreds of underpaid and overworked waitstaff for Sebastian to yell at. The thought alone sent shivers down Jace’s spine.

“Stuck on a boat with a bed that’s bolted to the floor,” Sebastian corrected, and took another enormous bite of ice cream. “There’d be plenty of things for Ash to do.”

“Cruises are tacky.”

“I don’t recall that stopping you in Vegas.”

Jace winced. “I thought we’d agreed what happened in Vegas _stays_ in Vegas.”

Sebastian’s expression was remorseless. “How am I supposed to forget doing lines of probably fake cocaine in the bathroom of a gay strip club?”

“As I recall, that was _your_ idea.”

“I don’t remember you protesting.” Sebastian gave him a chocolatey kiss. “I definitely don’t remember you protesting about fucking in said bathroom, or on the kitchen floor in the hotel, or on the couch, or in the shower, or against the window—“

Jace winced some more. “You can stop now.”

Sebastian pouted. It wasn’t quite as cute as he thought it was, but definitely cuter than Jace liked to admit. “Make me.”

Sebastian had binge-read the entire _Fifty Shades of Grey_ trilogy on the plane during one of his business trips, and had returned a changed man. Not that Jace was complaining—the sex part was great—but he’d also kept the perchance for cringeworthy dialogue, and made Jace read all of them too. And Gillian Flynn’s collected works.

(Jace had been rather worried _Gone Girl_ was a pointed suggestion about the state of their marriage, and could easily see Sebastian conspiring to ruin his life should Jace stop paying attention to him. Jace still made sure to give him the occasional blowjob, just in case).

Jace sighed. “Put down the ice cream and maybe I will.”

Sebastian visibly weighed the options of sex versus ice cream, and went back to the ice cream. Jace returned to playing with Sebastian’s hair, occasionally giving him a sip of his wine. On the screen, somebody’s arm got sent through a food disposal system. “Fine. No cruises. What else would you want to do? We could go to Europe. You haven’t seen much of it.”

“Ash is too young to travel,” Jace said, imagining the horrors of containing a violent, contentious eight-year-old on a plane. “How about a roadtrip to Canada? Banff is beautiful this time of year.”  
  
A road trip was just as bad, but at least they wouldn’t be subjecting fifty plus people to Ash (and Sebastian’s) tantrums. Besides, it had been ages since Jace had seen the Canadian wilderness, and maybe some of its calm would rub off on his husband and child.

Sebastian made a face. “I’ll have to learn how to speak Canadian. And you’ll make me go camping, and you know I hate camping.”

“No camping,” Jace promised. The last time they’d tried camping together Sebastian slept in the car and refused to have sex with him for a week. “Besides, Canada is a British colony. You wouldn’t have to learn anything.”

He might have to learn how to be polite and apologize to people, but Jace tried not to be overly optimistic about such things.

Sebastian waved a hand. “I couldn’t get off work enough for most of these. I have to save my vacation days for the family reunion, anyway.”

Deep terror struck Jace through like an icicle to the heart. “ _What family reunion_?”

Sebastian looked up at him curiously. “Didn’t I tell you, honey? It’s Val and Jocelyn’s anniversary, so we’re going to get together for dinner. Not sure at who’s place yet, but it’s coming up soon.”

Only in the Morgenstern family was celebrating the anniversary of your parents’ divorce even remotely normal. The very thought was horrifying—Jocelyn, Val, Sebastian, Clary, Simon, and _Jace_ all in one place at once spelled certain disaster. Jace wouldn’t be surprised if it caused a tear in the fabric of space time, or something.

“Is something wrong, sweetpea?” Sebastian asked, concern in his dark eyes. On screen, a character was screaming wildly as they were attacked by a swarm of bees. Jace couldn’t help but feel the same. Sebastian pressed a kiss to Jace’s cheek. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

“I’m great,” Jace said, a bit weakly. “Just great.”

**Author's Note:**

> no ragrets amirite


End file.
